


Hair Do

by VesperCat



Series: Timothée Chalamet/Amrie Hammer fics [5]
Category: Armie Hammer - Fandom, Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Timothée Chalamet - Fandom
Genre: Call Me By Your Name adjacent, Fluff, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-06 02:48:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18842065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VesperCat/pseuds/VesperCat
Summary: “Help,” Timothée pouts, dropping his hands to his side, “Please?”





	Hair Do

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the friend who read and made suggestions.

Timothée stands in front of a floor length mirror, hopelessly trying to tame his wayward curls by parting a middle and raking the head full of hair to the right, however he ends up playfully shaking the locks loose, and parts them to the left instead.

Armie sits quietly, observing with curiosity and humor. His index finger rubs his lower lip as a desperate attempt to hide the smile from his frustrated partner. If only he knew how playful he looked, how that kind of energy was something he admired. Putting the poor guy out of his frustrated misery, Armie picks up the dark green hair brush from the bedside table and stands directly behind Timothée. Timothée notices Armie standing behind him and rolls his eyes, irked by the warm expression on Armie’s face.

“Help,” Timothée pouts, dropping his hands to his side, “Please?”

“Come on,” Armie says laughingly, taking Timothée’s hand in his.

Timothée begrudgingly sits on the corner of the bed as Armie shuffles and settles behind him. Armie begins by carefully dragging his fingers loosely through the wild curls and then rakes the brush through the wild bush.

Timothée catches Armie's attention in the tall mirror and gives a small, private smile. Armie smiles back, his eyes lighting up with the warmth that is reflected by his curved lips.

"Do you have hair ties?"

"Somewhere in the bathroom bag,"

Timothée shakes his head then runs a hand through his hair as Armie goes in search of the hair ties.

"Are you sure?"

"I think," the reply comes from the bed.

Armie does in fact find the hair ties but they were in a side pocket of Timothée's carry-on bag. Probably purchased in a hurry as an afterthought and grabs the compact mirror from the toiletry bag on the way out of the bathroom.

Armie returns to the bed behind Timothée and pulls the hair brush once through the silky locks, gathers the top half and pulls the hair through a hair tie.

"What about something like this?" Armie asks, giving the compact mirror to Timothée.

Timothée checks Armie's work and tries not to pull a face at the half up, half down style.

"Maybe something," Armie gently pulls the hair tie out and tries again," try now,"

Timothée touches the tiny bun, "It's..."

"It's okay if you don't like it," Armie offers, meeting Timothée's gaze in the mirror again.

“Mmm, Yeah, Uhh. I don’t know… It's–” Timothée continues to survey the hairdo, but the longer he looks at it, the more absurd it looks. His eyes meets Armie’s and suddenly, a belly aching rumble erupts from both of them, “Maybe later?”

Armie pulls Timothée onto the edge of the bed again.

"I'm not really practiced but," Armie starts and trials off as he busies himself with Timothée's hair.

"And done," Armie says as he ties the last hair tie.

Timothée bends himself backwards far enough to just see Armie and smiles, "Hi,"

"Hi, to you too," Armie smiles back, places the compact mirror into the smaller hand, "go look, see if you like it,"

Timothée angles the small mirror, five neat rows of French braids in a half up, half down style appears in the reflection, "How- When did-"

"Thank all the dance moms," Armie admires, wrapping his arms around Timothée's middle.

Timothée slightly leans onto Armie's bigger frame, one hand going to Armie's upper arm and the other to the hands around his waist.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to-" Armie apologizes, taking a step back and dropping his arms away from the small waist.

"No, it's alright. I actually," Timothée turns around and goes on his toes to reach Armie's neck, "like both,"

"Both?"

"Yes, both," Timothée suggests resting his palms on Armie's chest, "maybe we can arrange something with Elizabeth,"


End file.
